Post-Mission Natasha
by Kathryn Claire O'Connor
Summary: Natasha comes back to the Tower after a mission and goes through her post-mission routine with her three guys, causing her to consider just how lucky she is to have them in her life. *Two-shot. Story's better than summary!*
1. Chapter 1

**This is one of those stories where I sit back and think _"What the heck am I writing?" _but here it is. Enjoy!**

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Natasha felt horrible. She was tired, she was dirty, and she was covered in cuts and blood, not all of which was her own. She had just got back from killing someone in Morocco, and, truth be told, she felt like killing the next person who stepped into her line of sight – unless it was him, which, of course, it was. Clint almost always came to collect her once she had completed a mission for SHIELD.

There he was, leaning with his back comfortably against one of Tony's cars, sunglasses on, arms crossed over his chest. So completely Clint. Natasha was suddenly convinced that he was the most beautiful thing that she had ever seen. She met him at the car, smiling lightly when he opened the door to the back seat and allowed her in before he slid in beside her.

"Take us home, Happy," Clint requested of the chauffer.

How nice of Tony to have lent the chauffer out with the car.

Once Happy pulled away from SHIELD headquarters and put up the darkened, soundproof barrier between the front and back seats, Clint put an arm around Natasha's shoulders and pulled her closer to him, asking quietly, "How are you doing?"

"Fine," she answered, giving him a kiss before she burrowed into his shoulder.

"You sure?"

This had been a hard mission, and they both knew it, which meant they also both knew that she was lying to him.

Natasha opened her mouth to say "yes," but stopped, telling the truth when she wordlessly shook her head against his shoulder instead. Clint didn't say anything – they both knew there was nothing that he could say. He just pulled her even tighter into the circle of his arms and rubbed her back as the tears started flowing freely.

She hissed when he ran his hand over a particularly big gash, and he brushed a kiss against her temple in apology.

"We'll get you home and all fixed up, okay?"

"Okay," she whispered, content to sound like a child.

She needed this – she always needed this – when she came back from a hard mission. A purge of tears with her man before she went back to the Avengers Tower. Sometimes Steve came to get her, and sometimes Bruce came to get her. Sometimes, when the mission hadn't been too absolutely horrible, she just drove herself home all on her own. But for the really bad ones – ones like this one – it was always Clint, and, as much as she loved the others that she lived with, there was just no replacing Clint when she really needed to cry. At least not quite yet – although she was pretty sure that the others that she lived with loved her as much as Clint did, there was just no equal substitute for him quite yet. He didn't judge, he didn't talk, he didn't try to get her to talk to him, he just held her and let her emotions run their course. He was great like that.

Eventually, they got to the Avengers Tower, and although Natasha was already feeling a bit better after her ride with Clint, opening the door of the car to see Steve standing there waiting for her and the archer only made her feel that much more soothed.

"Hey," Natasha greeted the super-soldier, climbing carefully from the car as she remained mindful of her injuries.

Steve smiled at her in a way that didn't quite reach the concern in his eyes as he stepped up to her and brushed away the last of her tears before giving her a gentle kiss.

"You okay, beautiful?"

She snorted at the pet name, answering, "Better now; thanks."

Steve smiled again, wrapping an arm around her waist as they walked with Clint towards the elevator.

"Careful of her back, Steve," Clint warned. "She's got a bad cut there, I think."

"Then let's go get you cleaned up so that Bruce can take a look at you," Steve said to Natasha.

And then they were off on the second part of returning home that almost always met "post-mission Natasha." Clint disappeared into the elevator to inform Bruce of her return home and most likely the condition in which she had returned, and Natasha leaned her head contentedly over onto Steve's shoulder as he guided her into the bathroom. Together the two of them rid her of all of her weapons before she turned her back to him, letting him unzip her skintight black uniform without a word. He guided the cloth off of her shoulders and carefully helped her undress the rest of the way before she stepped into the huge shower that Tony had installed. She reveled in the scalding hot water as it hit her shoulders, and groaned aloud when Steve stepped into the shower behind her a minute later, massaging the tension out of her shoulders.

"You could've been a great masseur, you know," Natasha said, her eyes drifting closed.

"So you've told me," he answered in a light voice, kissing her shoulder.

He took a washcloth and carefully began to wash the blood, dust and grime off of her tired body as she said, "I'm really glad you're here, Steve."

"Me, too," he murmured.

Captain America had been the last one to join Natasha's unconventional little group, and at first she had quite frankly been surprised at how well he had fit – like the piece of the puzzle that finally made her life totally complete. Ever since then, they had been dragging him out of his shell a little more at a time, even going so far as to get him to be a willing participant in, say, co-ed showers, for an example.

He had changed, yes, but so had she. Her guys had softened her up a little, but if Steve didn't mind being modernized, then she had learned not to mind being humanized. She had even learned to like it – at least where her guys were concerned.

"Better?" Steve asked after a few more minutes.

She nodded. "Thanks."

"Anytime," he said with a wink and a smile just for her, grabbing towels for the both of them.

Natasha toweled off, truly feeling much more relaxed by then. Steve got dressed and so she reached for the other outfit that had already been set out, presumably for her. Her under things, of course, but then there were Clint's boxers and Bruce's shirt. Steve must've gotten her outfit this time; the other two made sure they got to see her in their things, if they did it.

That's where Steve fit in amongst her guys, really; he was a great peacekeeper when it was needed, and selfless enough to put others' needs before his own, even in the little things like what he chose for her to wear. Natasha grinned and gave him a chaste kiss of thanks and just because she could before padding in her bare feet into the elevator.

"To the doctor, I presume, Agent Romanoff?" Jarvis asked her as the doors shut behind her.

"You know the drill, Jarvis."

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**Reviews are my new best friend; if you want to drop me one, it's very much appreciated. Thanks!:)**


	2. Chapter 2

The next minute, the elevator stopped and opened at the lab and Natasha stepped out, seeing that both Bruce and Tony were hard at work on an experiment of some kind.

Tony caught sight of her before Bruce did, and elbowed his friend lightly, nodding towards the elevator as he said, "Honey's home."

"Oh, am I your 'honey' now too, Stark?" Natasha asked with a teasing grin. "You think you're up to joining my merry band?"

Bruce scoffed as he started towards her and Tony snorted, answering, "I doubt Pep would appreciate that."

"Besides," Bruce added, sliding an arm around Natasha's waist. "I doubt Steve would be willing to share you with Tony."

"Oh, yeah," Tony smirked, looking at Bruce out of the corner of his eye, still mostly bent over his project as he said, "And my best friend would have no qualms with it whatsoever?"

"Didn't say that," Bruce answered, gesturing for Natasha to take a seat on the countertop.

"Because you totally have issues with sharing your girl?" Tony asked, and Natasha was almost surprised to hear that same note of friendly sarcasm and nothing more pointed in the tone.

Bruce pondered that for a second as he took Natasha's pulse and then replied, "I just love her enough to realize that as good as she is for me, she deserves to be able to be that much good in other people's lives too."

It was Natasha's turn to scoff as she broke in, saying, "You've got that backwards, Bruce; it's me that needs you guys."

"The best relationships are two-way streets," Tony said before shrugging, "Not that I would know. That's just what Pepper tells me."

"You do too know," Bruce answered with a role of his eyes. "You and Pepper have a great thing going, and it's okay for you to knock the 'playboy' part out of your list of attributes for her sake."

Tony snorted, asking, "Who would've thought that I would be the one to settle down into a more normal relationship than Captain America?"

"Normal's overrated," Bruce answered easily before asking Natasha, "How bad is it today, darling?"

"Not too horrible. Just the normal bumps and bruises… and someone came after me with a sword when my back was turned towards someone else."

"Meaning what medically?" Bruce asked whilst cringing.

"Cut across my back, not deep, but Steve said it was probably about five inches long."

"Then I'd better take a look at it," Bruce answered. "Take off your shirt."

"It's your shirt."

"I noticed."

"And that is so my cue," Tony said, bounding towards the elevator. "You kids have fun now."

Bruce rolled his eyes at Tony's mouth, commenting as Natasha slipped out of the gray t-shirt, "At least he means to be harmless about what he says."

"Harmless but annoying," she agreed.

"Tony will be Tony," Bruce answered nonchalantly, going around the counter to look at her back.

Natasha inhaled, asking, "How bad is it?"

"Not as bad as it feels, I'm sure," he answered. "Nothing physically worse than you're normal post-mission Natasha…" he came back around the counter to look her frankly in the eye as she shrugged his t-shirt back on, asking, "So why did Clint say this was a hard mission for you?"

Natasha swung her feet idly, looking down at them instead of at Bruce, not at all surprised that Clint had ratted her out.

He slipped one of his hands over one of hers, probing softly, "Darling, what is it?"

She sighed, "I never got a good look at my mark's face, and they didn't tell me the guy that I killed was fourteen… not until I had already done it."

Bruce sighed, wrapping her in the circle of his arms and letting her burrow her face into the curve of his neck. She wouldn't cry again, they both knew that. She had already cried in the car with Clint, but sometimes she just needed to be held more than once, and any one of her three were more than willing to oblige.

After another moment of remaining in his arms, Natasha sat up and jumped agilely off of the counter, asking, "Are you going to come back to our place with me?"

"Of course," Bruce answered, keeping an arm around her shoulders as they went into the elevator and got off at her floor.

The sight that met them in the entertainment room was both familiar and oh so comforting. No matter what she had just been through on a mission, this would always be awaiting her when she got back to the Tower. Clint, Bruce, Steve, a nice cry, a hot shower, a quick examination, and – once all of that was over – the king-sized hide-a-bed in her couch, a bowl of popcorn, and a movie of her choosing.

And there it was, all spread out nicely before her - Clint pulling out the hide-a-bed as Steve came in from the kitchen with a huge bowl of popcorn.

"All better?" Clint asked her as he settled onto the bed with the other two guys.

"Much better," she answered, kneeling down in front of their extensive movie collection.

Deciding to be arbitrary, she closed her eyes and grabbed randomly, drawing out Disney's "The Little Mermaid." After sliding the movie into the DVD player, she crawled onto the bed, settling into the spot that they had left open for her.

Once he had figured out that there was more than one man dating Natasha – it had only been Clint and Bruce at the time – Tony had bought the huge couch – but mostly the even bigger bed that went with it – as an expensive joke of sorts. Although it had since been explained to the billionaire that not even Natasha slept with more than one of her guys at once, the bed had still come in handy for evenings like this.

They were sprawled across the bed, and she had Bruce on one side of her with his arm now around her waist, Steve on the other side absently holding her hand, and Clint at her head, his fingers toying with the edges of her red curls. It almost made up for what she had just seen and done in Morocco. She felt good now. She felt safe and at home, even… happy. And for that she could thank her three guys.

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**And there you have it. I rather enjoyed writing this actually; what do you guys think about my writing something else in the same universe as this? Yay or nay? Reviews are my new best friend; if you want to drop me one, it's very much appreciated. Thanks!:)**


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